


stopping by the woods on a snowy evening

by Megonagal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/F, Femslash February, but good angst, gays in nature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 16:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17769995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megonagal/pseuds/Megonagal
Summary: Pansy stumbles upon Hermione's impromptu vacation.





	stopping by the woods on a snowy evening

I

When Hermione found Pansy, she had blood on her hands. How the witch did not know but she was unwilling to ask. She simply pulled her wand out and pointed it straight at the dark-haired girl’s chest, maintaining a few feet of distance. Pansy merely laughed, the way one does when they have no joy left inside of them and it's a mere burst of air. A reminder you are alive. 

“What are you gonna Granger? Kill me?” Pansy fell to her knees, skin crushing against the snowy floor. She shook as she took off her robe and revealed her blood-stained school girl shirt and her loose tie. 

“Go ahead. Do it. I’d rather die here than in that slum.” Pansy sighed. 

Hermione stiffened, her knuckles white wrapped around her wand. Maybe she should kill her. Maybe then it would all be over, and everyone would forget. She straightened her body and cleared her throat and watched Pansy suck in her breath ready for the blow. 

“Petrificus Totalus ” Hermione whispered, then bending down to grab the rope of her sled. She floated Pansy’s body onto the sled and off she trudged back to her cottage.

°°°  
All she could do was see. Her mouth wouldn't open and neither would her hands. For the first time Pansy didn't feel stressed she was calm. She let herself take in the sky, clear and calm. She watched the birch trees go past, little robins and blue jays huddle in their nests. She could here the lake and it’s water trickling across the huge rocks and pebbles. This was where the Deluminator had taken her when she’d begged for escape.

Hermione had stopped moving now. 

She brought the rope down and walked over and stood over Pansy. Pansy stared back at the woman’s olive skin, her monstrous black hair and curious brown eyes. Hermione always looked curious. Maybe that’s why Pansy was so afraid of her, cause Hermione always was looking for something Pansy didn't want to be found. Pansy always wanted to hide and right now she couldn't. 

Hermione undid the enchantment and walked away. Pansy sat up and stared at the little cottage in front of her. It looked like tons of thin wooden logs were stacked upon one another, a little window with a ledge the only sign of it being mildly cozy on the outside. A large orange cat sat in the window ledge, glaring at Pansy viciously. It was only when Hermione rapped on the window that Pansy realized the girl meant for her to enter the house. 

Pansy stumbled into the warm cottage, the warmth from the fireplace causing her bones to ache with want. 

“Accio wand,” Hermione uttered, pointing her wand to Pansy. Nothing appeared and the girl looked puzzled. 

“Nothing on me but the clothes on my body. Granger. Feel free to strip me of those as well if you’d like.” Pansy smirked weakly.

The faintest of blushes lit Hermione’s skin but the girl simply asked in an even tone “What happened?” 

Pansy shrugged “Was at the shop, some students recognized me and we had a falling out.”

Hermione was silent, large pink plump lips pressed into a thin line. Not that Pansy was looking of course. She hated the look in Granger’s eyes, pity. She despised when these people pitied her. People she’d wronged because she felt like she had to because she’d been a coward. A reminder of how she was getting a straight ticket to hell because of the blood that simmered through her veins and the beliefs she’s been raised with. Beliefs she’d shed through her 8th year. One of the few Slytherins who’d come back, she’d spent the year observing others from afar, trying to see why they weren't the ones that people ever targeted. It didn't take Pansy long to realize that like the dark mark burned in her skin and Draco’s, there would forever be a reminder that their house had served the enemy. 

Hermione disappeared into the one room of the cottage and Pansy glanced around her surroundings curiously. She saw a photograph of Hermione’s parents, a Muggle one that didn't move. They looked happy with their pearly-white smiles and cookie-cutter household. The other picture on the wall was of Hermione with Potter and Weasley. They were in their first year and were smiling gap-toothed and young at the camera, waving at whoever was capturing the moment. Pansy had never known innocence so pure. She’d always been under lock and guard, on the defensive, on the edge. 

The rest of the house was cozy yet bland. Dozens of blankets covering the ratty couch and draped over the dinner chairs. Pillows tucked into crevices and crystalline chimes hung over the other window. 

“What do they mean?’ Pansy asked, staring at the crystals as they shook gently against the harsh cold wind that blew outside. 

Hermione, who’d just stepped back into the main room stared at the girl. “Luna says they bring comfort.” 

Absentmindedly Pansy clasped one of them tightly, as if trying to suck the magic out of it. 

“Not the place I’d expect a heroine to live.” Pansy laughed lightly. 

“I needed a break.” Hermione replied wearily, tossing Pansy a blanket and laying spare clothes on the couch. 

“From what?”

“Magic.”  
Pansy just laughed again, an automatic response at this point “You and me both.” 

Hermione looked at her again, the same curious look in her eyes. “Go change, I’ll heal your wounds after.” 

Pansy quietly took the bundle and walked off into the room. 

°°°  
She’d expected the Pureblood to look scandalized, to throw insults and slurs and lecture her. But she’d agreed. Ron had not been as kind for he’d looked insulted and was offended. It was probably why they didn't work out. Relationships were supposed to be a constant presence, constant attention, constant admiration to him. She couldn't do that, she’d seen too much. She knew everyone was human, no matter how powerful the magic in their veins ran.

Ron had wanted her to be his and in love, but to love you had to be whole and Hermione couldn't. She loved Ron but not in the way he’d wanted and they’d split over Sugar quills and study materials. It was just a burst of Hermione saying she didn't want to be a relationship, Ron agreed and asked what the limitations to Veristaserum were. Logical, formal, and with as much emotional range of a teaspoon. 

Classic Ron.

Whilst she cared and loved for Ron as a friend she wanted more. She wanted emotion and passion that she’d never had. 

“Well, it smells like wine and is covered in cat fur but I’ve had worse.” Pansy sighed, pulling the raggedy jumper down to display it’s frayed ends. She looked small, fragile, yet fierce. Hermione wasn't sure if the feeling in her stomach was fear or admiration but she didn't overthink it. 

“Sit down,” she called, patting the kitchen counter. Pansy obliged and walked up to her, wincing as she hopped onto the slab. She smelled of rusty blood , sweat, and oddly mint. Hermione closed her eyes and extended her hands and began to cast wordless spells. 

 

°°°  
Hermione stood before her in heightened concentration, scrunched eyebrows, and soft hands. The witch methodically hovered her palms over Pansy’s arms, her chest, stomach, neck, and mouth. Pansy felt her body stretch and her skin meld back together, her bones ached from being healed. Hermione got on her knees, hands now over Pansy’s jogger clad legs and fixing the scrapes on her knees and the cracks on her heels. If Pansy pretended they didn't know each other, that they were inherent enemies, this would have been erotic. She tried to desperately to remember these facts. 

“So how long till you come back to school?” Pansy asked, in the desperate urge to make conversation so she did not think too much.

 

“Maybe a few days, a week. I don’t know.” Hermione mumbled, not breaking her focus on the task at hand. 

“You’ve been gone a week and Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum have turned to Draco and Blaise out of desperation to help them with their schoolwork.” 

Hermione got up, walking over to grab a blanket and replied “Harry would have gone to Draco willingly. Now if Ron’s gone willingly I’d be more concerned.”

She wrapped the blanket around Pansy’s shoulders. Pansy tried not to think about how Hermione smelled of lavender and woodsmoke. 

“How did you find this place?” Hermione asked, leaning against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Ah, see if I told you I’d have to kill you,” Pansy smirked, kicking her legs. 

Hermione raised an eyebrow, unamused. Pansy sighed, “Spoilsport.” 

She pulled the deluminator out of the pocket of her skirt and noticed as Hermione tightened. 

“Where did you get that?” she asked in cool anger. 

“Nicked it from the Gryffindor common room because my little revenge seeking friends were particularly cruel and I was bored. Judging by the look on your face, it belongs to someone you know.” 

“Yes, yes it does.” Hermione replied curtly, grabbing her wand and summoning the device towards her.

“Relax, you can keep it. I just wanted to let them know that I could get to them anywhere.” Pansy shrugged leaning against the kitchen cabinets.  
Hermione sighed, running her thumb along the strange device.

“What did you wish for?” she asked.

Pansy looked away, biting her lip afraid to answer. In the end, she let out a breath of air and said curtly “I asked for an escape.”

The two women stood there quietly, taking in each other and not sure what to say. The kettle squealed and Hermione poured Pansy a cup of tea. Taking the mug in her hands Pansy thanked her softly and scurried to the sofa where she sat, taking sips of the drink and staring at the fire. She heard Hermione shut the door as she left and moments after Pansy closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. 

 

II  
When Pansy woke up Hermione was asleep in the armchair beside her. The early morning light made it look like the curly-haired witch was glowing softly, her face was peaceful and Pansy could see her fingers twitch slightly like a puppy having a pleasant dream. Crookshanks had decided to lie in the corner of the couch by Pansy and look deeply offended when her foot touched him. She hissed at him and for some reason, he respected her for it and just walked over and settled by her side. Pansy sat up on the couch and stretched, feeling much better than she had last night. She petted Crookshanks’ fur lightly and yawned. 

“He seems to like you,” Hermione mumbled sleepily, causing Pansy to jump in surprise. 

“It’s not hard to believe; I’m very likable.”

“I can imagine.” Hermione replied smiling softly. 

Whilst Pansy tried to dissect what that meant Hermione got up, stretching and trudged to the kitchen. 

“I’ll make tea!” Pansy called quickly. 

Hermione frowned, running a hand through her mane of dark hair and stretching her arms again to expose the skin of her lower back. 

“You sure?” she asked. 

“Yes. Go shower.” Pansy replied, sliding off the couch. Hermione obliged and walked to the bathroom. When Pansy heard the water turn on she made her way to the kitchen, filling the teapot with water and placing it on the stove. She’d gotten used to Muggle technology after Arthur Weasley started teaching Muggle Studies after the war. Despite his wariness towards her, he was willing to help her through learning all the machines and devices they had. She made peppermint tea with honey and let the steam cloud her thoughts. 

It was Sunday, she didn't have work. Her mother wouldn't miss her and Draco and Blaise were used to her disappearing off. She didn't have to go back. So maybe she just wouldn't, until Hermione kicked her out that is. She heard wet footsteps behind her and she turned to see Hermione in a fitted V-neck top with joggers. Pansy immediately began to focus on stirring her drink again. 

“Here you go” she muttered using a silent charm to push it towards Hermione.

“Thank you,” Hermione replied, getting Honey buns out of the cupboard and tossed one into Pansy’s hand. 

“I need to feed the birds. Would you like to join me?” Hermione asked. 

Pansy shrugged in response, trying to contain the pure joy she felt.  
°°°

As much as Hermione hated to admit it, she missed having company. Whilst 2 years ago she would rather jump off a cliff than be alone with Pansy in the middle of nowhere, especially in the Forest of Dean, she liked the girl’s company. She wasn't her usual vile self. She was stern, cocky, and soft-spoken. They could exist in comfortable silence and Crookshanks trusted her. Crookshanks had proven to be reliable in his judgment of character so she trusted Pansy, as ridiculous as it was. Hermione lent her a scarf, hat, and boots and the two girls trudged through the snowy fields. 

“Explain to me why we are feeding birds that are perfectly capable of feeding themselves,” Pansy grumbled walking alongside Hermione.

“Because it’s difficult for them to catch food, takes more time for them to do so, and it's a higher chance that predators could attack their nests,” Hermione replied.

“Isn't that the circle of life?”

“Well yes, but it eases my mind when I do it.”

Pansy said no more but Hermione could feel her roll her eyes. It made her smile; something she hadn't done in a while.

“So how did you find this place?” Pansy asked.

Hermione didn't want to answer. She wanted this to be a secret amongst her friends and family. But she hadn't had a conversation in so long she was desperate to interact.  
“My parents used to bring me here. It’s always been my little hideout, my secret,” she replied. 

“And you are alright with me knowing?” Pansy asked, pure confusion laced in her voice. 

Hermione thought about it for a second. Pansy had been a lot of things at school but for the most part she was quiet. Her whining and fawning over Draco had died down over the years and she mostly only attacked Hermione when around her friends. To be honest, Hermione didn't really recall Pansy’s taunts. Maybe that’s why she didn't mind because Pansy seemed like a stranger who just entered her life. 

“Yes. I am” Hermione responded firmly.

She could hear Pansy about to say something but she placed a gloved hand over the pale-faced girl’s pretty mouth. She placed another finger over her own mouth, signaling that they’d arrived. 

Hermione whistled her tune and the birds slowly chirped and came out of their nests. Blue and red robins, 10 of them all swooped down and began to peck at the grains and bread. Hermione kneeled down and watched them twitter and peck. She turned to gesture for Pansy to come closer but the girl looked awkward. 

“Come on.” Hermione called. 

“I’ll scare them. Besides they are used to you I will just watch from here.”

“Pansy Parkinson you are many things, but scary isn't one of them.” Hermione laughed. 

“Is sexy one of them?” Pansy smirked weakly. 

“Possibly. Now come here.” Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. 

Pansy did, cheeks a light pink blush, and she squatted beside Hermione. The birds flitted towards the stranger, pecking at her combat boots and searching her palm for grains. 

“Here,” said Hermione, pouring some seeds into Pansy’s palm.

The blue robin fell into Pansy’s hand and began to nibble away and Hermione watched as the girl chuckled. For the first time since she’s known her, Hermione saw Pansy genuinely joyful. It was a beautiful sight: the way her smile lines creased her face and her nose scrunched up. 

The girls sat their crouched and calm, shoulders brushing as they watched the bird Twitter and fly around them. Eventually, they got up and walked along the lakeside.

Their hands touch lightly as they did, not that Hermione cared.

She pulled a ziplock bag of nuts and grapes and offered some to Pansy. The girl obliged.

“ So, why do you want a break from magic.” Hermione asked.

Pansy Tosser the almonds into her mouth, holding a finger up to signal she was chewing. Hermione bit back a smile of amusement as the pale girl looked like a chipmunk with the food in her mouth.

“Magic my dear is a lifestyle. A culture. We practice it in different ways. I was raised not only to use it but to embody it. Embody the idea mother dearest told me to. So I did, thinking I was doing the right thing. Considering the fact that I now live in a shithole, my mother no longer speaks to me, and I can’t walk into a room without being harassed. I’d say that it wasn't my smartest decision.” 

Hermione was quiet. She wanted to tell Pansy that at least she was working towards improving. But she felt that they would be useless and empty So instead, she held Pansy’s hand.

 

°°°  
Pansy’s hand felt like it had been zapped when Hermione took it. She couldn't tell if the girl had done it intentionally or not. She also couldn't tell if her cheeks felt the flushed cause of the touch or the weather. 

“Why does your mother not talk to you? You were on her side during the war.” Hermione asked quickly. Pansy glanced to see that it wasn't just her who was blushing.

“That is true. But I wasn't exactly on her side in terms of sexuality.” Pansy replied.

She expected Hermione to let go of her hand, to be uncomfortable. Instead, she received curiosity and confusion.

“But..Draco?”

“Ah yes.Not my finest hour. I just fawned over him so everyone would be convinced I wasn't a flaming lesbian. It worked a bit too well in my opinion.” Pansy replied.  
Hermione left it at that, nodding quietly. The girls continued walking along the bank, hand in hand. Pansy can’t remember the last time she held onto a woman just because it felt right and not our desperation or pure lust. She hated it. 

“So, when did you know?” Hermione asked.

“Well, this rainbow-colored gypsy walks up to you in the woods. She rubs her beautiful crystal orbs, pun intended, and…”

Hermione smacked her arm and Pansy laughed, losing balance a little and swaying to the side. That might have been her first real laugh in a while. This felt real, this felt like home more than home had ever felt. She was like this around Draco and Blaise of course, but they didn't have D cups or beautiful wild eyes. 

“Why do you want to know anyways Granger,” Pansy asked evenly, gaining her balance and slowly making her way to Hermione. 

°°°  
Hermione froze. She thought she’d been subtle but clearly, that was one skill she didn't possess. 

“Just curious,” Hermione replied. This was true, she was curious.

Curious and confused because she couldn't pin her thoughts down and it frustrated her. She wanted to hold Pansy’s hand more, talk to her more, and make her laugh more. She wanted more and more and more and more. She just didn't know the exact reason why. 

So when Pansy stood there, studying her with her obsidian black irises she blushed under the attention. 

“Well,” Pansy began, stepping on foot and then the other.”I was 14 and we played the muggle game, Spin the bottle. Except Flint was a dick and enchanted the bottle so it only landed on girls. So I ended up kissing Astoria. It was great and we kissed a couple times after but we weren't really into each other. I just sort of practiced on her cause I liked the feeling, of girls that is.” 

Pansy then stepped forward a bit more, their noses brushing against each other lightly. 

“So Granger, would you like me to kiss you?”

Hermione just remembered nodding, after that it was a blur. It was soft lips against her cracked ones, the taste of grape juice and mint toothpaste. It was Pansy’s cold hands against her burning red cheeks and her hands on the back of Pansy’s neck. 

They break the kiss, breathing heavily and staring at each other. 

“So, did that answer your question?” Pansy asked, surprisingly shy.

“Yes, it did,” Hermione said shakily. She took the girl’s hand and apparated straight to the cabin where they spent the night kissing, holding each other in a tangle of limbs and moans. In their secluded corner of the world where nobody was there, they indulged in each other’s comfort, breathing in their presence, and the smell of sex. On a snowy evening In a cabin at the heart of the Forest of Dean, the two broken witches found warmth in each other and never let go.


End file.
